The Elephants of Norwich by Edward Marston

more about the lord Mauger. He’ll not escape close questioning. Other lines of inquiry must also be explored.’
    ‘That’s why I asked about your steward,’ said Ralph, seriously. ‘Did the fellow have many enemies?’
    ‘None at all, as far as I know,’ grunted de Fontenel.
    ‘Was he married, my lord?’
    ‘Hermer lived alone.’
    ‘He must have had family or friends of some sort.’
    ‘His parents came from Falaise but they died years ago. As for friends,’ he said with a slight smirk, ‘Hermer took his pleasures where he could find them. He liked the girls to be young and pretty.’
    ‘Why do you think he was murdered?’ asked Ralph.
    ‘Because he knew too much. Hermer was bribed to steal the elephants from me. When he handed them over to his paymaster – and I know who that was – his tongue was silenced in the most brutal way.’
    ‘It’s the brutality that worries me, my lord.’
    ‘For what reason?’
    ‘Put yourself in the position of this alleged paymaster,’ suggested Ralph. ‘For the sake of argument, imagine that you bribe someone to steal precious items from a rival. When that’s done, you decide to have your hireling killed.’
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘Wouldn’t you take care to hide your tracks? Wouldn’t you bury the body some distance away instead of leaving it under the nose of the lord sheriff?’
    ‘Probably.’
    ‘I certainly would,’ opined Bigot.
    ‘There’s another point,’ continued Ralph. ‘Your steward looks to have been sturdy enough but he was no soldier. It wouldn’t have been difficult for someone to take him unawares with a sly dagger.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘Why stab him a dozen times or more when one well-placed thrust would’ve done the task? Your steward was defenceless, he wore no armour. Why was his body so cruelly abused? If you had seen his ankles, you’d have noticed the ugly weals left by a piece of rope. Your steward was dragged on his back over rough ground, my lord. Who’d wish to do that?’
    ‘Mauger.’
    ‘Keep his name out of it,’ ordered the sheriff.
    ‘I agree,’ said Ralph. ‘The man who murdered your steward had a personal score to settle. It was a vengeful death. That rules out the lord Mauger. From what I hear, he’s no saint but neither is he a coldblooded killer. Remember those missing hands, my lord. Why were they cut off? There has to be a meaning in that brutality.’
    ‘The lord Ralph is right,’ concluded Bigot. ‘The man we seek didn’t bribe your steward into stealing those elephants. He slaughtered Hermer for a purpose.’
    ‘To strike at me,’ said de Fontenel.
    ‘No,’ argued Ralph. ‘To get revenge. I come back to my original question, my lord. This is an intensely personal crime. Who were Hermer’s enemies?’
    ‘I told you. He had none.’
    ‘Think hard.’
    ‘There’s no need. Hermer was a conscientious steward who carried out my orders to the letter. Nobody could have any cause to dislike him, let alone hate him enough to carry out such a barbaric attack.’
    ‘What about Alstan?’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘An old man we met along the way,’ said Ralph. ‘One of your bordars.’
    ‘There are dozens of such men on my estates,’ said the other, dismissively. ‘I can’t be expected to remember the name of every churl.’
    ‘You should remember Alstan. Old age didn’t deprive him of his spirit. You reduced him to slavery. When he had the gall to complain, you had the fellow whipped and chased off your land.’
    ‘It was no more than the wretch deserved.’
    ‘That’s a matter of opinion, my lord. I saw Alstan’s scars. They’ll remain till his dying day. I was reminded of them when I went into the morgue earlier and looked at the wounds on your steward’s back. As a matter